My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan) novel Chapter 100

+25 BONUS 

CHAPTER 100: You’re Not Alone 

–Julle~~ 

People say all brides are late to their weddings. It’s practically a tradition, isn’t it? But me? I was not going to be one of those brides. I had a plan. I gave myself a generous window- ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops–because, really, what could possibly make me late? 

The answer, apparently, is everything. 

Here I am, forty minutes behind schedule, crammed in the backseat of a car with Marissa, my maid of honor, wrestling with my veil like it’s some kind of unruly octopus. 

“Hold still,” Marissa says, her fingers tangled in the fabric. “You keep moving, and this thing’s going to look like a bird nested in your hair.” 

“I wouldn’t be moving if we weren’t speeding down the road like we’re in a car chase,” I shoot back, my head jerking as the driver swerves to avoid another car. 

The blame? It falls squarely on last night’s rehearsal dinner. It felt like the entire world showed up. Luke’s family alone must have taken up half the venue, and their energy? Boundless. How do they even keep track of themselves? One of his aunts–a woman whose name I still can’t remember–spent an hour teaching me how to dance cumbia and vallenato. Honestly, I could have spent the entire night just spinning around in circles with her if it weren’t for the endless interruptions. Toasts, hugs, and a surprise karaoke session where Luke belted out “Bésame Mucho” like his life depended on it. It was chaos, the kind of beautiful, messy chaos that made me fall for him in the first place. 

But it also meant I didn’t get back to my hotel room until way too late, and this morning was a blur of misplaced makeup bags, a hairstylist running behind, and my bouquet almost being left behind in a fridge. 

“Almost there!” the driver shouts over his shoulder. 

“Define almost,” I say. “Because if this dress wrinkles any more, I’m going to look like I pulled it out of a suitcase.” 

Marissa smirks. “Luke won’t care. He’d marry you in pajamas if he had to.” 

I sink back into the seat, letting out a deep breath. My fingers itch to check the mirror again, but resist. 

“Do you think my cheeks are too pink?” I ask instead, suddenly self–conscious. 

Marissa rolls her eyes. “You’re a glowing bride, Julie. You look stunning. Stop worrying.” 

“I feel so happy that I might burst. Is that normal?” 

“It means you’re marrying the love of your life. 

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CHAPTER 100 Youte Not Alone 

+25 BONUS 

I can’t help but smile at that. “He’s quite charming, isn’t he?” 

Marissa smirks. “He’s your groom. You tell me 

The car slows to a stop in front of the church, and my heart skips a beat. 

“Finally,” I breathe. 

The second I step out, I’m blinded by the flash of a camera. “Oh my God,” I mumble, shielding my eyes. The wedding photographer is already at it, snapping away like I’m a celebrity on a red carpet. With lightning–fast reflexes, she darts from side to side, capturing every angle of my entrance. 

“Smile, Julie!” Marissa says, practically dragging me toward the church steps. 

I manage a weak grin, clutching my dress as I climb the stairs. My heel catches on the hem, and I stumble. 

“Whoa!” Marissa grabs my arm, steadying me. 

burst into laughter, the irony hitting me. “You know,” I say between giggles, “this is exactly why I didn’t pick one of those giant ballgowns. Carolina told me she tripped on hers, and I was like… hell no. Look at me now, falling like a round bride.” 

Marissa grins as she adjusts my train. “Let’s get you inside before the officiant quits.” 

We make our way to the vestry, where a loud cheer greets me. My bridesmaids, the flower girls, and some well–wishers are behind the clapping and whistling. 

Sophia and Isabel rush forward to hug me, careful not to smudge my makeup. “You look incredible,” Sophia says, her voice warm. 

“Thank you,” I reply. 

A sharp knock interrupts the chaos. The wedding coordinator pokes her head in, looking frazzled. “Are we ready? The officiant has been waiting.” 

The bridesmaids, who had been chattering and laughing, suddenly scatter, filing out one by one in a flurry of satin and silk. They adjust their bouquets, smooth their dresses, and exchange nervous smiles as they make their way out of the vestry. The sound of their heels clicking on the stone floor echoes back into the room, growing fainter with each passing moment, until it’s just me and Marissa standing alone in silence. 

I exhale, my nerves catching up with me. 

“What is it?” Marissa asks. It’s only when she pulls out a tissue from her purse to dab at my eyes that I realize I’m crying. “Now’s not the time for your hormones to act up.” 

“It’s not that,” I say. “I don’t know if I can go in there alone. My dad walked me down the aisle the first time.”